Forgive Me
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Set during the Quarterback. Santana is upset and still feeling guilty about the way she treated Finn, and since she can't really make it up to him, she decides to apologize to Sam for the way she treated him. Full GKM prompt inside.


**From a GKM prompt: Set during the Quarterback. Santana is upset and still feeling guilty about the way she treated Finn, and since she can't really make it up to him, she decides to apologize to Sam for the way she treated him. She throws herself at him, desperate to be able to make it up to him (and Finn), and they end up having sex. **

**It starts off really rough and sloppy, Santana is really desperate to please him and Sam tries to get her to stop at first, not wanting to take advantage of her emotional state, but eventually gives in, and lets her blow him, before he fucks and comes inside of her.**

**Bonus if:**  
**He starts off slow, trying to be comforting, but she starts begging him to fuck her rough and hard, to pound her or hurt her like she deserves. He does fuck her hard like she wants, but refuses her to hurt her.**  
**She starts crying when she comes, and clings to Sam, who stays inside of her while she calms down.**

Sam doesn't expect to see Santana waiting for him at his locker. After she ran out of the choir room in the middle of her song he assumed she'd left the building.

She looks really small, like she's going to disappear in Finn's jacket.

"How are you doing, Santana?"

She shrugs. "I've been better. Are you still staying at Kurt and...at Kurt's house?"

"Yeah. Did you want me to give the jacket back to Kurt for you?"

She hugs it around herself possessively. "He gave it to me."

Sam isn't sure he believes her, but it isn't something he wants to get in the middle of, so he just nods.

"The reason I asked," Santana continues, "is I thought you might want to go somewhere else for a while. You know, with me. I'm sure it's really tense over there."

"That would be great, actually. I've been trying to stay out of everyone's way...especially with Kurt home, and the three of them want to spend time together..."

Santana drives. She doesn't seem to want to talk, and Sam respects that. But when he sees they're leaving the town limits he has to ask where she's taking him.

"There's this place I went with Finn once. I need to see it again...I need to see it with you."

"Uh, okay? But I mean, is it far?"

"Just don't worry your pretty little head about it, blond Bieber."

Sam bites his lip and looks out his window at an empty field.

"Sorry, Trou...Sorry, Sam." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "We're almost there."

A few minutes later she pulls into the parking lot of a generic-looking chain motel. "You came here with Finn once?" Sam asks.

"I deflowered him here. Don't you like how thoughtful I was, making his first time romantic and memorable?"

Santana gets out of the car and walks toward the office. She's fast; she's almost to the door by the time Sam gets his seatbelt off and steps out the car. He calls after her, "Returning to the scene of the...the incident isn't going to make you feel any better." She ignores him and goes inside. Sam leans uncertainly against her car and waits.

When she emerges several minutes later, she gestures for him to join her. She walks through the lobby and around the corner to a first-floor room, holding the door open until Sam catches up to her and goes inside. "First of all, I think the term you were looking for is 'scene of the _crime._' Because that's what it was. Second of all, who said I want to make myself feel better?"

Sam glances around. The room is dark until he opens the curtains, exposing a view of the parking lot and revealing the grayish-green color of the room's walls. "So this is the room where you committed your quote-unquote crime?"

"No," Santana says, letting the door slowly close behind her. "I mean, it's possible, I guess. I didn't pay any attention to which room it was. It was really unimportant to me."

"I'm sure Finn didn't care what the room number was either."

"You don't get it, do you?" Santana asks, her voice rising. "I ruined his first time for him. It should have been magical and romantic and all that shit, but it sucked because it was with _me_. And I didn't even care. He was always so...so kind to me, and I was never anything but a bitch to him."

"Santana..."

"Don't even try to tell me it's not true. And I know that's what you want to do, because you're just like him that way. And I've been just as big a bitch to you as I was to him."

"Santana, it's okay."

"It's not okay. It's the opposite of okay because I can never make it up to him." She walks over to where Sam is standing by the window. She takes one of his hands in hers and places it on her breast. "But I can make it up to you."

Sam quickly withdraws his hand. "You don't have to do that, Santana."

"I do." She takes his hand again and puts it back on her breast, this time holding it there. "I broke up you and Quinn, I treated you like shit while we were going out, and then I didn't even bother to break up with you before I started dating Karofsky. I tried to steal Brittany back from you. _And_ I never even let you fuck me."

Sam twists his hand out of Santana's grip and holds both her hands in his—away from her chest. "You didn't owe me sex when we were dating. And you don't owe me sex now."

"Fine. I don't owe you." She slips her hands out of his and removes her dress and Finn's jacket in one motion. She stands facing him in just a red bra-and-panties set and black ankle boots, and he can't help but look. It's less clothing than he's ever seen her in—including when they were dating. He doesn't want to be turned on, but she's hot. He almost wishes she were forcing him to touch her tits again. She waits until he looks in her eyes again and adds, "I want to give it to you."

"Santana, you're upset." Sam turns to look out the window, because looking at her is not helping him resist her advances. He sees a middle-aged couple outside getting out of their car and realizes they'd have a clear view of Santana practically naked, so he quickly shuts the curtains. He looks at her again—only at her face—and says, "Giving me sex won't make you feel better."

"I already told you. I don't want to feel better. I want to make you feel good. It's the least I can do after all the times I made you feel bad." She drops to her knees in front of him and starts unfastening his belt.

"Stop, Santana." Sam takes her hands once again. He already feels himself starting to get hard, but he can't take advantage of Santana's fragile emotional state like this. No matter how much his dick might like the prospect.

"Sam, don't make me beg," Santana says, her voice cracking a little. "Unless that's what you get off on. Will it turn you on if I beg you to let me suck your cock? Cause I'll do it if that's what it takes."

Even though Sam is pretty sure this is a trick somehow, he can't help but feel that just letting Santana blow him would be a lot less cruel than making her beg (though the thought of her doing so is getting him harder), and so he lets go of her hands and leans back against the window ledge.

After a little fumbling she gets his belt unbuckled and his jeans and underwear pushed down to his knees. There's no finesse to the way she pulls his cock into her mouth, and he feels the roof of her mouth and her teeth as much as her tongue. But it's warm and wet, and she sucks really hard, and soon his dick has grown enough that's it's pretty far down her throat and she's gagging a little as she starts to bob her head.

Sam squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head fall back. He works one hand into her hair and says, "Santana, take it easy, baby, please..." But she doesn't take it easy at all. She continues to gag and suck loudly, and her mouth produces obscene amounts of spit, causing sloshing noises as she moves his dick around in there.

She manages to get her tongue on his balls, and then her fingers, and he feels them tighten already. It's too soon, it's like she's forcing the orgasm from him before it's ready, but he can't stop it. He tightens his grip on her hair and involuntarily thrusts into her mouth. "Fuck...oh fuck..." he cries as his cock tenses and spurts come down her throat.

She keeps sucking way too long—until it actually kind of hurts—like she doesn't even realize he came. Sam has to move her head off his dick and she looks up at him, confused, her lips swollen and chin covered in spit. "It was good," he tells her. "It was really good."

She actually smiles a little. "Yeah? I made you feel good?"

"Yeah. You made me feel really good." He runs his fingers through her hair and she lets out a sigh of relief. She stands up and looks around. Sam sees she has goose bumps, and he wraps Finn's jacket around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she says. "So...you want me to drive you home?"

"Not really," Sam says honestly. Santana was right earlier, when she guessed that it was really tense at the Hudson-Hummel house.

"I bet you're a cuddler," Santana says. "After sex. Finn was. Or he tried to be anyway..."

"Yeah," Sam says, leading her to the bed. "Let's cuddle a while."

He pulls up his boxer briefs but steps out of his jeans and sneakers. He leads Santana to the bed and sits her down on the edge before kneeling in front of her to take her shoes off—he can't imagine that high-heeled ankle boots are comfortable to cuddle in (or to wear at all, for that matter).

Santana crawls under the sheet and blanket, the letterman jacket still wrapped around her. Sam walks around to the other side of the bed so he won't have to crawl over her. He slides in next to her under the covers and spoons her. "Brittany's the only one who's ever held me like that," she says.

"Is it okay?" Sam asks. "I can stop if—"

"No. It's okay. It's kinda nice. I mean, Brittany was the one who always wanted to do it..."

"She always wanted to be the big spoon with me too," Sam says, and they both laugh. "She's still in love with you," he adds.

"I know. I'm still in love with her too. She's the only person I've been with that I wasn't a total bitch to all the time. Just a partial bitch a lot of the time."

"Hey," Sam says, jostling her shoulder. "Cut it out."

They sleep for a while. When Sam wakes up, the room is noticeably darker. He's on his back now and has an arm around Santana, who's half on top of him with her head resting in the crook of his neck. She has one knee resting near his crotch, and when she shifts a little in her sleep it brushes against his dick, which twitches in response.

And he really doesn't want to get hard again. But he's there in a bed with a scantily clad Santana draped across his body, and she's all warm and soft and she smells like pure sex, and he can practically still feel her mouth around his cock...

Her knee moves against him once more, and this time a moan escapes from him. He tries to roll onto his side, away from her, but she holds him in place. He realizes she's at least partially awake. She rubs lightly over the cotton of his underwear and his cock grows under her touch. "Let me take care of this for you," she says into his neck.

"It's okay," he says. "It'll be fine in a minute if you just stop..."

But she doesn't stop touching it. Soon she's got his underwear off and his cock fully hard again between both her hands. She climbs on top of him and takes her bra off. This time she doesn't have to force his hands, and he cups her breasts willingly. They're soft and perky and amazing, and he doesn't even care that he's heard they're fake. "Fuck me, Sam," she says, grinding against his cock. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Please, Sam?"

"Okay," he repeats. He gently flips her onto her back and moves down along her to remove her panties. He places his hands on her hips and kisses her inner thigh and notices she's shivering and covered in goose bumps again. He looks up at her and asks, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snaps. "Just fuck me. Please."

"You're not fine. You're freezing."

She sits up and puts Finn's jacket on before falling onto her back again. "Problem solved. Now fuck me."

He rubs her thighs until they warm up and then resumes kissing them. He's working his way up slowly with his lips and tongue, but Santana gets impatient. "You don't have to seduce me. You don't have to get me all worked up with foreplay. I asked you to do one thing, and that's fuck me."

"Why? You think you don't even deserve foreplay?"

"Maybe I just can't stand the thought of those trouty lips anywhere near my cunt." The words sting, as they're meant to, but the look in her eyes tells Sam that his guess is closer to the truth. "Sam, I'm sorry. I just—"

"You just really want me in you already?" he suggests, hoping to save her from having to admit he was right.

"Yeah," she says. "Exactly."

He moves up between her thighs, which she opens wider for him. He rubs his cock against her entrance a few times. He really wants to plunge right in, but not if she isn't ready. He reaches down, and the wetness that covers his fingers reassures him. One finger brushes across her clit, and she gasps and pushes his hand away. He takes the hint and moves the hand to her breast instead as he lines his cock up.

Before he starts to push in, he asks, "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Yes!" she says, the exasperation in her voice clear. "Come on."

He enters her slowly—in part because he doesn't want to hurt her, and in part because she just feels so incredible he's honestly overwhelmed. She probably hasn't had a cock in her in over a year, and it's like fucking a virgin (not that Sam has ever done that) but without the blood and pain. That is, he hopes without the pain. Her eyes are closed and her face is scrunched up like she's concentrating really hard. "How are you doing?" he asks.

"Faster," she says. "Harder. Please."

He doesn't go any faster, though, or any harder, not right away. He keeps pushing in slowly and gently, savoring her tight warmth, until he bottoms out. He holds completely still for a moment before pulling partway out. When he thrusts in a second time it is a little faster, and he gradually builds up speed with each thrust.

Santana moves forward to meet each thrust. She grabs his ass to pull him in deeper. She starts to whimper softly, more out of frustration than pleasure, it sounds like. Sam kisses her neck, but when he goes for her mouth she pushes him off her.

She moves onto her hands and knees, facing away from him. "Give it to me in the ass," she says.

Sam massages her cheeks. He's always had a thing for her ass, actually. It's her best feature, even better than her tits. But he has a bad feeling about the request. "Why?" he asks.

Santana puts her head down on the mattress and her ass higher in the air. "Don't ask me why, just fucking sodomize me."

"I don't have any lube or anything," he says. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Maybe I want you to hurt me. God knows I deserve it."

"You don't, Santana. Please stop saying that." He rubs her back. "We really shouldn't do this, if that's why you want to."

"No! It's not. You don't have to hurt me. Just fuck me hard, Sam, please. Fuck me hard enough that I can't think about...about anything for a while. Please? Okay?"

He thinks about it for a minute. He likes to think it's to help her forget Finn for a while and not just because his dick is aching to get back inside her. Whichever one it really is, he agrees. "Just...I want to make sure you're okay. If you're not you have to tell me."

"Sam, please shut up and fuck me."

"I have to know you'll tell me," he repeats.

"Yes. I promise I'll tell you. You don't have to ask me again."

Sam gets on his knees behind her and lines himself up. He fucks into her hard, and she cries out. Before he can ask if she's okay, she says, "I'm fine, that was great, keep doing it just like that."

And so he does. He grasps her hips and pounds his cock into her relentlessly. Her face is on the mattress and her knuckles are soon white from clutching the sheet. Every thrust makes Finn's jacket slide a little farther down her back, and soon it's covering her head.

Sam tries hard to hold off his orgasm. Santana actually seems to be okay now, while he's fucking her into the mattress, while the headboard is slamming against the wall, while she's stammering out nonsensical "ah-ah-ah" noises. But he's not sure what will happen after he comes, so he wants to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Santana does something—moves or flexes a muscle or something—that squeezes his cock so perfectly he almost comes. He pulls out and makes her turn onto her back again. He tries to go a little slower, a little gentler, this time, just to prolong things, but it's no use. His whole body will no longer settle for anything other than rough and fast.

He squeezes one of her nipples, and she makes a noise that's one of unequivocal pleasure. It's the first noise he's heard from her like that, and he keeps squeezing her nipple so she'll do it again. She does, again and again, and the noises get more intense until he thinks she's going to come soon. He moves his fingers from her breast to her clit, and she cries out, "Oh fuck! Finn, oh fuck, oh fuck oh Finn oh fuck!"

Sam holds perfectly still while she spasms around his cock. She wraps her arms around him and pulls him to her, burying her face in his neck. She makes loud, incoherent noises that only when he feels the wetness on his neck does he recognize as sobs. By that time her orgasm is almost over and Sam's has just started. While he's gasping and releasing inside her slick walls she's crying and saying, "Don't let go of me, Sammy, please don't let go."

He doesn't let go—or pull out—even after he's depleted and limp. He rolls them both over so she can lie on top of him, and he holds her close with his arms under Finn's jacket. The lie like that for a long time—until she's out of tears and can't cry anymore. Even then he doesn't move until she does.

She kisses his lips chastely and sits next to him on the bed. "Thanks," she says, not looking at him.

He takes her hand and waits until she does look at him before asking, "Do you feel any better?"

"That depends," she says. "Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you. We didn't have to do that for me to forgive you, you know that."

"Yeah, I do know that. But I still feel better that we did."


End file.
